Lightning Strikes
by benedictcucumberpatch
Summary: 'Because lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice...' - A one-shot inspired by the short Trixtopher scene in the Season 7 trailer, and what I think could have lead to that scene. (Not the best description, sorry!)


**WOW hello everyone! It has been a really, really long time since I've published any fan fictions (although I've never actually published a CTM one), even though I've still been writing them. I have absolutely fallen in love with Trixtopher (I think that's their ship name and I LOVE Christopher he seems like an all-round Good Guy** ™ **) but honestly I had SO MANY FEELINGS when I watched the Season 7 trailer.**

 **The tiny little scene between Trixie and Christopher spawned this whole mammoth fic. It's much angstier than my usual writing (I tend to stick to the fluff) but I just HAD to write about this. I'm not quite sure about the characterisation or the writing style as I wrote this in a couple of hours, but I just had SO many feels! Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! xxxx**

 **CW/TW: sexual harassment/abuse, alcohol abuse mentions**

 **part I - flashbacks**

 _How the hell had this happened?_

Trixie shuts her bedroom door behind her in a flurry, as if by doing so she could block out the outside world and everything that had just happened. She wonders for a moment if she's having a panic attack, because it seems as if she can't get any air into her lungs. She knows she should be trying to breathe deeply in order to calm down, but her brain and her rationale seem to be completely disconnected at this point.

She tries to focus on the feeling of the texture of the rough wood on the doorframe underneath her fingers, and shuts her eyes to try and take herself away - anywhere but here.

But even in the comfort of Nonnatus, she can still _smell_ the tobacco. _Hear_ the music. _Feel_ histouch. His hands lingering on her upper thigh. " _Come on sweetpea,"_ he had growled. _"Y'know you want it."_ She thinks she's going to be sick.

Trixie wonders to herself whether she should have taken Valerie's advice and taken another midwife with her, or whether by doing so she'd have caused the same thing to happened to someone else. And she'd never have forgiven herself for it. It doesn't make it any easy that when she shuts her eyes, it's not only her patient's face she sees, but his too. Clifford Raines. Offering her a drink, making her feel special, then making her feel _dirty_ and _used._

Just like back then, she'd managed to push the patient off and run away, tripping out the door and cycling back to Nonnatus as quickly as she thought her legs could manage. But back then, she was more naïve than she was now. Surely by now, Trixie thinks, she should have learnt her lesson. Back then, she hadn't been on a district nursing call just trying to do her job. And of course, back then, she'd had a bottle of gin to help her cope. Part of Trixie wonders if she'd never had a drink that night if it ever would have taken over her life as much as it did.

Trixie never thought she'd find herself in the same situation. Because lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice.

 _Doesn't it?_

 **part ii - shattered glass, shattered dreams**

It's only later that night when Christopher comes to pick Trixie up for dinner and he senses that something's not quite right. Instead of Trixie swinging open the door and greeting him in typical fashion, it's Sister Winifred he sees.

"Good evening, Mr Dockerill," she says chirpily.

"Good evening, Sister Winifred." Christopher glances over her shoulder to see whether he can spot Trixie inside Nonnatus. Which he cannot. "I was hoping Nurse Franklin may be around? We had some plans to go out for dinner this evening, and it's somewhat difficult to do without her!"

Sister Winifred's face frowned a little. "I'm afraid Nurse Franklin wasn't feeling too well after her district round this afternoon… I think she may have taken the rest of her afternoon off. I'll be sure to let her know you were here thought. So sorry, Mr Dockerill."

"Oh," he says quietly. "Please do ask her to call me when she has a moment, and tell her I hope she feels better soon."

Sister Winifred smiles sadly, then shuts the door. He can remember one other occasion in which she'd been unwell and had to cancel a date… but that time, she'd left a note for him at the door.

 _Something is not right._

And to be fair, Christopher was 100% right.

Inside, Trixie looks at the glass in her hand, and then at her reflection in the mirror. So much had changed, yet now it seemed as if she was back at spare one. Only recently, it had seemed like she was on a high. She had a fulfilling job ( _until today)_ , good friends ( _but who knows what they'll do when they find out about this?),_ and a wonderful boyfriend _(if he still even wants to be with me_ ).

 _What comes up - must go down._

The elusive clear liquid sits in the glass. Taunting her. Calling her name. _Trixie._ Testing her strength. And then as if in slow motion, the glass drops from her hand and shatters on the floor. The gin is suddenly everywhere, and Trixie's brought out of her own thoughts to the present again. _Oh god,_ she thinks. _Oh god._

And then she sits down on the bed, hot and stinging tears running down her cheeks, and stares at the shattered glass on the floor. _I'll get it later_. And with no one else to keep her company but her own thoughts, she thinks.

She thinks about how things came tumbling down so quickly.

 **part iii - exhausted**

After a long day, Valerie wants nothing more than to just settle into bed - perhaps read her book for half an hour, and then get a good night's sleep. The work at Nonnatus is tiring, but she feels as if she's finally getting some fulfilment and satisfaction from her life.

Except that when she opens the door to her and Trixie's shared room, all she can focus on is the broken glass on the carpet next to Trixie's bed. Oh - and the smell of alcohol in the room. And the bottle of gin on the countertop. She and Trixie may never have spoken about her past, but maybe this was the reason why Trixie requested that Valerie keep her drinks elsewhere, and why Trixie never imbibed. Ever.

Quickly, Valerie grabs a dustpan and broom and silently sweeps up the glass. She takes the bottle of gin and moves it into what used to be Barbara's old room. She'll move it again tomorrow to somewhere more difficult to find, but for the time being, this'll do.

She finally lets go of the breath she didn't even realise she was holding, and reaches for a blanket from the top of the wardrobe. Trixie is curled up on her bed, still in her uniform. Carefully as to not wake Trixie, she unfolds the blanket and puts it on top of Trixie.

Sitting down on her own bed, her eyes glance back at Trixie. Whether she should inform someone else or not, Valerie's unsure. But for the time being, she'll just keep an eye on her blonde friend, and hope the morning brings fresh hope.

 **part iv - vanilla slice**

Christopher decides to try and see Trixie again a couple of days later, but this time, plans a surprise for her. He's booked the afternoon off work, and double-checked with Sister Julienne about when Trixie is supposed to be off-call and on her lunch break. He's got a vanilla slice and scotch egg in his bag, in the hopes that might give her a laugh. And no champagne.

This time, Nurse Dwyer opens the door. "Mr Dockerill, what a surprise!"

"Ahhh, well, yes, that was the plan - for Nurse Franklin, at least. I don't suppose you would be able to find her for me?"

Nurse Dwyer scrunches her nose a little and takes a deep breath. "Look, she's been a bit under the weather today. Perhaps today isn't the best day."

Christopher furrows his brow in confusion. He's now absolutely convinced that something is wrong - unless Trixie simply wants to stop seeing him, and hasn't found the way to tell him yet. But Trixie's a genuine person, and so Christopher doesn't believe that's the case.

"Has - is something wrong, Nurse Dwyer?"

"Look, Mr Dockerill, this is strictly between you and me, because I'm worried about Trixie. But I don't want you to mention anything to anyone else, as of yet." He nodded in understanding. "Something happened a couple of nights ago… and I think it involved a bottle of gin."

 _Oh no._

He chuckles nervously, in attempt to hide the serious worry he fears is taking over her face. "May I still see her? Perhaps there's something I can… say? Something I can do? I… I want to support her."

"No, I understand completely," Nurse Dwyer says, throwing him a consolatory smile. "You are seeing each other, after all." She quickly turns to peer through the house. "I think she's sitting outside on one of the benches." Looking through again, she whispers, "Just go in through the back, there."

"Thank you."

 **part v - "i'm not asking for help." "you need it."**

He can't help but feel as if the convent is completely foreign to all the previous times he'd been there. Once, he'd even stayed in the guest room and had quite quickly become acquainted with the various rooms and areas of Nonnatus. But now, he feels as if he won't know what's around the corner until he's actually passed it. He reaches the door that leads outside, and with a deep sigh pushes the handle down and steps outside.

His eyes immediately spot her sitting on the bench, and he curses under his breath.

Attempting to compose himself, he paces briefly on the spot before walking slowly over to her.

"Hello," Christopher murmurs. Closer, he's able to see the true extent of whatever's really happened. Trixie's arms are crossed, her face sullen, and her typical porcelain-like skin red and splotchy.

"Christopher!" She exclaims, turning to face him. "What a surp - what are you doing here?"

"Well, after you were sick the other day, I thought I'd come to see you, because you know, I miss you…"

He won't bring it up yet. He'll just wait and see. Perhaps it was only a blip.

Trixie sighed. "I'm so sorry about the other night, Christopher. I meant to call you, or leave a note, or something, but instead I just left you in the dark."

"No, honestly, Trixie. Sister Winifred told me you weren't well, and that's not your fault. I… I brought you something for lunch," he tells her, reaching into his bag to get out the food items. "So, I hope you brought your appetite!"

She takes the vanilla slice from him, smiles and says a quick thank you, but simply places it into her lap. If Christopher's being honest, Trixie looks absolutely knackered and like she hasn't slept in days. As if it's not just her body which is tired - but her soul. He was hoping his instincts would be wrong, and that he'd arrive and Trixie really had been ill the other night. Now, he thinks otherwise.

He was normally okay with words, but now felt like more important than ever to pick the right thing to say. "Trixie?"

"Yes?"

"Is something the matter?"

"What?"

"Is something wrong?"

"What? No," she says. It's obvious to Christopher this is a lie, because by this point, Trixie almost looks as if she's crying, but he doesn't want to push it and potentially upset her more. "I'm absolutely fine, Christopher." The look on his face says it all: _is that really true?_

And then she actually begins to cry as Christopher looks on in horror.

"Darling, if you disagree with me, and for the other person involved, for what I'm about to say, then I beg you to forgive me in advance. Nurse Dwyer found a gin bottle in your room a couple of nights ago. Is everything seriously alright?"

"I didn't have any of it," she says, a hint of anger in her voice. Trixie looks him straight in the eye, and doesn't break

"I know you didn't," he replies "It's just that… I remember what you told me about the AA, and if you're struggling then… I… if you tell me, I can help you."

"I'm not asking for help," says Trixie, eyes still fixed on his.

"You need it."

Trixie brushes a tear from her cheek, and turns away from Christopher. She tries to smile in an attempt to convince him she's fine, but it only seems to make matters worse. A quiet sob escapes from her lungs, and she buries her face in her hands. Christopher can't bear to just sit and watch anymore, because it's as if his heart physically aches watching her so upset. "Trixie, may I…?" He watches carefully for her nod, because otherwise he would have missed it. And then he wraps his arms around her, and encloses her in them, wishing that he could embrace her pain away.

But unfortunately, he knows that's not how pain works.

He watches her grasp her suit jacket in her hand, and rests her head against his chest. "Someone… touched me, Christopher. On my nursing round that day. My patient. He… I had to push him off of me. And I… I didn't know what to do, or who to turn to. I felt so lonely."

His stomach drops. _Oh, Trixie._

"I almost feel as if I deserve it."

Christopher almost thinks his heart is breaking. "That couldn't be further from the truth."

She lifts her head to look at him. "But it's happened before…"

"What? Trixie, what do you mean it's happened before?"

But Trixie doesn't answer his question. "I thought I'd overcome everything, Christopher," she cries. "I thought I'd moved on. And now I feel I'm ruining everything. At Nonnatus, since Valerie obviously saw it, between us…" She took a deep breath in and paused. "And then, there's the bottle of gin calling my name. ' _Trixie.'_ It says. ' _Just one drink. Just one drink and all of this will go away!'_ As if it could solve everything. And oh God, Christopher." She covers her mouth, almost as if she's in shock. "My brain almost wants to believe it."

He presses a kiss to the top of her head and searches his brain for something to say. _Anything_ to say. "Nothing has been ruined, Trixie. Not at Nonnatus, not between us - I only brought it up because… I care about you a lot, and it just… there is no shame in struggling. And you have - no, you don't have to tell me what's happening, but I wish you would so that I could help you. Or get you help, because honestly, I really do think you need it." Christopher places another kiss to her forehead. _I wish I could have been here for you._

For a moment, there's silence, and Christopher wonders if he's made things worse, instead of better. Then Trixie turns slightly, and wraps her arms around his neck. It's one thing to have your heartbroken, and another thing to have it broken by someone else's pain. And at that moment, it's takes all of Christopher's strength to keep himself together for Trixie's sake.

"You'll get through this, darling. We'll get through it. Together."

He rests his own head ever so gently on hers.

"This dark patch can't last forever, and we're right by your side. The Sisters, the nurses, Alexandra… _me_. I'm right by your side. And… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Trixie.

I am _not_ going _anywhere_."


End file.
